


Wedged

by Shaunarnia



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaunarnia/pseuds/Shaunarnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: your oneshots are incredible, i think you should write a book. i know that requests are closed, but if you have a bit more time on your talented hands, could you maybe write a oneshot where Jon Moxley is drunk and gets stuck in the Mcdonalds playland slide and his ex-wife with whom he has a little daughter has to get him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedged

**Author's Note:**

> I've discovered that I love writing for Mox.

“I don’t believe this.”

You mutter under your breath. You’d recognise your ex-husband’s voice anywhere. By pure ‘coincidence’, Jon just happens to be at McDonalds PlayPlace at the same time as you, yet again, but this time, he isn’t exactly sober. You sigh and look down at your little girl with an apologetic smile, brushing her hair back out of her face.

“Sweetie, I’ll be a few minutes, okay? Go play with the other kids while I deal with your father.”

She nods and runs off towards the other children, which leaves you with the task of tracking Jon down. You pirouette as you look around the area for any sign of Jon. You can hear him, but you can’t see him.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N), babe, don’t ignore me!”

The slide. He's stuck in the slide. You stomp heavily towards the slide and stop at the exit. You look up the slide and see his feet, which means you’ll have to climb up into the play area and help him out from the other way. You sigh heavily and make your way into the play area, crawling on all fours until you reach the top of the slide. He's still calling your name until he catches a glimpse of your face, and you have to admit, even though this scenario has initially pissed you off, the sight of him stuck like this is quite funny.

“Jon, you’ve gotta stop following me around like this!”

You shake your head at him and rake a hand through your hair. It's so damn obvious that he wants to win you back, but there's no chance of that happening unless he can prove to you that he’s changed his ways for the better since you left him. This incident is making his chances look even slimmer by the second.

“I’m not following you. I just wanna see my wife and kid.”

“So you thought that doing this was a great idea? Spare me, Jon. I’m not your wife anymore. Just help me out a little bit so I can get you outta here.”

You scoff at him as you lay down on your stomach and stretch your arms out to him. You can see his eyes already beginning to wonder, and he's wearing that sleazy grin of his. You know exactly what his eyes are trained on.

“Fuck, I never did get tired of looking at those tits.”

His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he continues to stare, and you roll your eyes at him. You aren’t bothered about trying to cover yourself up in front of him. It's nothing he hasn’t already seen before.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” you hum and stretch as far as you possibly can, reaching out for his hands, “Give me your hands, Jon.”

Much to your surprise, he complies almost immediately, taking your hands in his, and he even attempts to budge himself up towards you to try and get out of the slide. You let out an exasperated sigh. Your efforts have worked to no avail.

“Shit, why’d you have to go in the slide?”

Your lips curve into a slight smirk. Knowing Jon, he probably acted on pure impulse before he got himself into this situation. He more than likely saw you wondering off somewhere else and felt the need to rush after you, and the slide seemed like the quickest option. However, it wasn’t exactly the wisest option.

“Wanted your attention and I got it.”

He replies curtly with a boyish grin. You chuckle lightly and slide yourself forward even more, and you give yourself an idea. It may or may not work, but it's certainly worth a try.

“Pull me down with you.”

“What?”

“No, listen to me. The weight of both of us is gonna send us down to the bottom of the slide. I can’t pull you up, so we’ll have to go down.”

Upon saying it, you realise how ridiculous it sounds. Jon bursts out laughing at the thought, but agrees to it anyway. You slipp forward even more and allow him to pull you towards him, and at first, you don’t budge. Instead, you're face to face with your ex and you have nowhere else to go. You can smell the alcohol on his breath even more strongly now that you’re so close to him.

“You’ll never change, (Y/N). Always wanna find a way to get close to me.”

He smirks and flicks his tongue out over his lower lip, somehow managing to bring his face even closer to yours. He keeps glancing at your lips, but you’re not going to give in to him.

“No, what I want is to get you outta here and get you back to your apartment, and if I wanna do that, you’re gonna have to help me push you down here.”

You grip hold of his shoulders and push him forward, and he actually budges a little bit. You push even more, finally deciding to give him a firm shove. It sends him shooting down the slide, and of course, you follow right behind him. He’s already on the floor when you near towards the exit of the slide, and Jon cushions your landing. The way he grunts tells you that you’ve landed right on top of him, and you can’t help but burst out laughing. 

Your little girl is looking on in the distance and eventually decides to run over to you both. She wraps her arms around your waist, and you push yourself back up to your feet when she decides to let go. You lean down and extend a hand out to Jon, and you have no idea how you lift him up to his feet. Even though he’s began to sober up a little bit, he's still practically deadweight.

“Is dad coming home with us?”

She asks, wrapping her arms around his legs. You think about it for a moment. You can’t bear thinking about something happening to Jon as he staggers back to his place, and you know exactly how to handle him whenever he gets in this state. Your expression softens into a smile and you loop an arm around Jon’s waist, keeping him upright when you notice his balance beginning to falter.

“As long as he behaves himself, I don’t see why not.”


	2. Mind vs Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You bring Jon back to your place for the night, and it makes you start questioning yourself when it comes to him.

Fortunately for you, the journey back to your apartment is a rather short one, but it doesn’t make dragging Jon back home with you any easier. You keep hold of your daughter’s hand the whole way home and keep your arm wrapped around Jon’s waist to steady him when he stumbles along, which only ups the struggle for you. He’s sobered up ever so slightly since you’ve managed to get him out of the slide, but he's still proving to be quite the challenge for you. Hell, it’s Jon Moxley. He’s always been a challenge for you.

“Does this mean I’m sleeping with you in your bed tonight?”

Jon mumbles suggestively and turns his face in your direction, and that boyish grin of his isn’t going to dim down any time soon. You roll your eyes and refuse to even look at him, opting to carry on hauling him alongside you instead.

“No, Jon.”

“C’mon, baby. It’s nothin’ I ain’t seen before.”

He winks and sloppily drapes his arm around your shoulder, and you're unable to shrug yourself out of his touch even if you wanted to. You can still smell the alcohol on his breath. In fact, you're almost certain that his general scent has become whiskey and cigarette smoke ever since you left him. You’d been the one to lead him astray from all of that when he met you, and he’d even remained that way throughout your marriage, so you can’t help but feel ridden with guilt being in his presence while he's in this state.

“I’ll take the couch and you can take the bed,” you state firmly and grit your teeth before continuing, lowering your voice to ensure that your little girl can’t hear you, “And I’m warning you right now, if you make another smartass comment in front of our daughter, I’ll call you a cab and you can go home by yourself.”

He scoffs at your threat. You’ve thrown more than a few empty threats in his direction over the years, and he instantly calls your bluff on this one, too. You feel him drum his fingertips along your waist as he turns his head towards you.

“You don’t have the balls to kick me out like that.”

“I’ve done it before, Jon. I’m pretty sure I’ve got the balls to do it again.”

Your voice is low, now practically a whisper so that your little girl can’t hear you. Jon falls silent as soon as you fire back at him. It stings to even utter the words, and you know that his pride is feeling the sting, too, but you aren’t going to let him waltz back into your life and tread all over you - even if it  _ **was**_  you who’d actually offered to bring him back to your place rather than see him go home alone - because you aren’t wrapped around his little finger like you used to be. 

Fortunately, before you can get into some kind of passive-aggressive dispute with Jon, you reach the front door of your humble abode. You dig out your keys from your pocket, and you have to deal with Jon intentionally leaning right up against you the entire time, even if he's trying to play it off as swaying to the side whilst completely intoxicated. He rests his head on your shoulder, deeply inhaling your scent as you unlock the front door and brace yourself to haul him over the threshold.

“(Y/N), baby, you smell fantastic up close like this.”

He practically growls in your ear, and you act totally indifferent to his comment, refusing to even acknowledge it. He's practically throwing himself at you, and this is something you really don’t want to deal with right now when you're trying to do him a legitimate favour. This act of pure altruism doesn’t mean you're taking him back or anything of the sort, even if your repressed feelings for him are subtly creeping their way back in as the night goes on. Admittedly, you’ve been pretty cold towards him tonight, but it's only because your mind is doing its best to fight against what your heart is telling you. There's always going to be something there for Jon.

“Sweetie, you go on ahead and I’ll help your daddy get up the stairs, alright?”

You tell your daughter, and she nods at you and jogs upstairs to her own room, which leaves you hauling Jon over the threshold. You reach the foot of the stairs with him, and you aid him in taking his shoes off. You lift one foot onto the stairs and hook your arm around him to escort him up with you.

“Jon, are you gonna need me to help you get dressed and whatever?”

You ask softly, drawing out your sentence due to concentrating on getting him upstairs with no stumbling or falling. He chuckles when you reach the top of the stairs, bringing his face right to yours so that you're both practically touching noses.

“You just wanna see me naked.”

The scent of alcohol floods your nostrils, and you shake your head at him. You’re genuinely trying to help him, and even though you won’t admit it to him, you’ve missed looking at his body.

“No, I just don’t want you getting tangled up in your shirt like you did that one time we came home from that New Year’s Eve party a few years ago. You were a drunk mess that night, Jon.”

You giggle at the memory, thinking back to how he claimed that his shirt was trying to eat him, or something along those lines. That night was a rather hazy one, and neither of you can remember very much of it.

“What, and you weren’t? You were practically trying to dry hump me as soon as we made it through the door!”

His volume increases, and you raise a finger to his lips to silence him without even realising that you’ve done it. You shush him and gesture to your daughter’s room, but all he can focus on is the way your finger subconsciously grazes over his lips, and god, they still feel as soft as you remember them. His eyes lock with yours for a short period of time, but you cast your eyes away from his. No, you can’t be doing this. Not tonight.

“Keep it down, she’s probably sleeping,” you whisper and drag him to your room, “C’mon, let’s get you outta these clothes. I’ll wash them in the morning for you, alright?”

Jon mumbles something in agreement, stopping right at the foot of your bed. He isn’t as drunk as he was earlier, but he's still staying committed to the act, purely because he wants you to see just what you're missing out on. You hesitantly take hold of the hem of his shirt and lift it over his head, and your eyes linger on his body for longer than they should. Considering he’d let himself go a little bit since you left him, he's still in pretty good shape. You unbuckle his jeans for him and let them drop to the floor, and you bend down to pick them up after he’s stepped out of them. You cast his clothes at the top of the stairs and get him into bed, even tucking him in properly before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Bet you’ve missed this.”

He slurs and smirks at you, and you smile softly and shake your head at him. You reach into one of your drawers and pull out some nightclothes, and you soon find yourself gazing back down at Jon.

“I’m gonna leave a glass of water and some aspirin here for you when you wake up in the morning, because you’re probably gonna have one hell of a hangover,” you giggle, but you soon turn serious, “And if you go through my drawers tonight, I’ll find out, and you’ll be leaving here without any breakfast.”

You threaten playfully, but he simply quirks a brow at you. It's not that you have anything to hide from him. You just know what he's like. He can’t help himself sometimes, and sneaking a peak at whatever lingerie you have hidden away isn’t really something he has open access to anymore.

“I really fucked up with you, didn’t I?”

He takes you by surprise. You half expect him to make some kind of witty remark, but he doesn’t. That's the last thing you expect him to come out with. Instead of giving him a straight response, you evade the question.

“We’ll talk about that some other time,” you can’t stop yourself from running a hand over his forehead, “For now, get some sleep.”

You step up and leave before he can even attempt to call you back to him, making your way to the bathroom to get changed and brush your teeth. You think of Jon the entire time, even though you know you shouldn’t be thinking of him. Now that he's back for one night and one night only, you realise just how much you’ve missed having him around. You've missed the remarks he’d make and how you’d have to take care of him whenever he’d had too much to drink. You just miss him.

“Fuck, (Y/N), stop it.”

You mutter to yourself and make your way to your daughter’s room, tucking her in even though she's sound asleep, and you plant a kiss on her forehead, whispering an ‘I love you, angel’ even though she isn’t conscious to hear it. You make your way downstairs and grab the blanket off the back of the sofa, stacking two cushions on top of each other to substitute for pillows, but just as you settle down, you find yourself stirring and jumping back to your feet to wander upstairs again. 

You make it to your room and peer around the door, and sure enough, Jon is already out cold. You think about it for a moment, but in the end, your heart gets the better of you, and you're crawling into bed with him, taking up the left side while he takes the right. You’ll lie to his face when he questions you on it when the morning comes along, but for now, you just want to spend one final night simply sleeping there beside him, just like you did when you two were so in love with each other.


	3. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon doesn't know what to think about waking up next to you when the morning comes around and after avoiding a few of his questions regarding what you feel for him, you both decide on what to do about it.

You stir and moan softly as you stretch when morning eventually comes around. Jon’s gentle snoring is what has awakened you, and you're contemplating actually going back to sleep until he wakes  up, or even pretending to be asleep until he wakes up if you fail to drift back off into slumber. However, you think about it for too long, because Jon is already groaning to himself and rolling over in your direction, and he's probably wondering exactly where he is. It makes  you wonder just how much he remembers about last night.

“Ugh…shit…”

He mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut whilst brushing a few stray hairs out of his face. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet, so you rapidly close your eyes and let yourself completely relax against your pillow while you let him figure things out. He isn’t in his own bed; he knows that much. But waking up next to  ** _you_**  in the same bed as him? That’s what gets him. He can’t pinpoint exactly how it happened, but if the raging headache he's currently suffering from is anything to go by, he clearly drank a bit too much last night and he obviously crossed paths with you at some point. Plus, he still has his boxers on and you’re fully clothed, so he can put his mind to rest on that matter.

“(Y/N), I know you’re awake. I may be hungover, but I ain’t stupid, baby.”

He murmurs in his groggy morning voice, and you decide to give up the game and allow your eyes to flutter open and lock with his. You should have known he’d be onto you in an instant.  _ **Of course**_  your ex-husband would know after living with you for years.

“You look like hell this morning,” you smirk at him and let out a chuckle, “Don’t try to get outta bed because if you throw up in my room, I’m not gonna be impressed with you. This carpet is about three weeks old.”

You caution him, and his lips finally twitch into a grin as he rests his head against the pillow and gazes at you, getting lost in your eyes for a minute. Jon realises just how much he misses this. He misses waking up to your smile in the morning. He misses holding you close to him in the morning. He misses having pointless conversations with you in the morning. He misses giving you lazy kisses in the morning – which would very often lead to sleepy sex - and he misses spending all day in bed with you and your daughter whenever she’d decided to snuggle in between you both during the weekends, because you both had all the time in the world whenever the weekends came around. He just misses it all.

“How am I in bed with you anyway? Fuck, what did I do last night?”

He questions you hoarsely and groans whilst clutching at his head as if it's going to magically improve his memory recall. You’ve woken up to this sight many mornings prior to this one, and even now, it still amuses you.

“Well, you followed me to McDonalds PlayPlace, you got stuck in the slide, I helped you out of the slide and then I brought you back here because you were a mess,” you take a moment to clear your throat, “And you were very…flirtatious.”

You quirk a brow at him and purse your lips, trying your hardest not to grin at the way he smirks self-righteously. He still has no idea about exactly what he’d said to you.

“Wait, you brought me back here? And you obviously stripped me down because if I was too fucked up to remember anything from last night, there’s no way I woulda been able to undress myself, and now I’ve just woken up in the same bed as you,” he scoots slightly closer to you, and surprisingly, you don’t budge, “What, you really missed me that much?”

You lay there under the covers, refusing to cast your eyes away from his as he smirks at you. You don’t want to admit it, but you’ve missed him in every way imaginable. The way his eyes flicker down to your lips doesn’t go unnoticed, and even though the temptation to kiss him simply to test the waters is unreal, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“I’d better go get you some aspirin.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

He fires back instantly, quirking a brow at you. You sigh and rolled away from him, inwardly cursing yourself and acknowledging that even bringing Jon home with you in the first place was a bad idea. If you’d simply called a cab and waited with him until it came along to take him home, you wouldn’t find yourself questioning your heart like this.

“I brought you back here because I didn’t wanna find out that you were face-down in a ditch somewhere the following morning,” you sit upright and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, keeping your back to him, “I was gonna sleep on the couch last night but I didn’t, and it’s not only because I think the couch is uncomfortable, but I wanted to remember what this felt like because I’m pretty sure it’s the last time it’s ever gonna happen.”

You hop up to your feet and rake your fingers through your hair, casting him a glance as you pace your way to the bedroom door. His eyes have been lingering on you long before you glimpse in his direction, and he’s even managed to prop himself up a bit.

“Figure the answer out, Jon. I shouldn’t have to tell you. It’s not difficult,” you purse your lips at him and turn your body in his direction as you lean against the doorframe, “I’ll bring your aspirin and water and then I’m gonna go make some breakfast up for the three of us. Come downstairs or don’t, it’s up to you, but you can’t stay in my bed all day.”

You walk out onto the landing before Jon has the chance to reply, and you let out a heavy puff of air. Everything about last night and this morning is giving you all sorts of nostalgia, and although you don’t really want to admit it, you can feel your feelings beginning to gradually seep back through. You poke your head around your daughter’s bedroom door to check on her, and you end up beaming at the sight of her sound asleep with her teddy bear in her arms, and you can’t resist tiptoeing into her room to pull the covers up to her chin to tuck them both in, and then you creep out of her room, leaving her in deep slumber until she wakes up on her own accord. The next port of call is the bathroom for Jon’s aspirin, which you quickly grab out of the cabinet along with a glass for him before making your way back into the bedroom, now being greeted by Jon being up on his feet, but still in just his boxers like you’d left him before he’d passed out last night.

“Here’s your aspirin and your water. I don’t know if you even need it now, seeing as you’re up on your feet, but I brought it in anyway.”

You keep your eyes trained on the glass the entire time in hopes of preventing your eyes from lingering on him, voice reduced to a whisper when he stands right before you and takes  the glass and pill out of your hands. You're anticipating him saying something about how he’s got you all figured out after the little riddle you’d dropped to him earlier, but he doesn’t. He simply knocks the pill back and hands you the empty glass once he’s downed the water, staring at you until your eyes finally meet with his.

“You weren’t gonna answer my question earlier, so I’m just gonna say it. I’ve missed all of this. Like, I’ve missed us.”

“So have I.”

You let a whisper slip through your lips, but when he dips down and starts closing the distance between you both, you raise a hand and place it on his bare chest to stop him. He complies and stops, shooting you a bemused look at the refusal. For a moment, Jon thought he’d actually got you back.

“This doesn’t mean I’m taking you back or anything.”

You sigh and cast your gaze downwards, wrapping your arms around your midsection. You miss him, but you're still trying to convince yourself that there is no way you can possibly do your relationship with him all over again.

“Stop kidding yourself, (Y/N).”

Jon scoffs and shakes his head at you with a frown on his face. He begins to pace in a line right in front of you, grumbling the lines he's preparing to say to you before actually deciding to address you.

“You miss me. You miss  ** _us_**. I still love you and I  ** _know_**  you love me too. Why are you trying to deny all of this?”

He raises his voice slightly and you hush him, reminding him that your little girl is still sound asleep in the room next door. You bite down on your lower lip and cast your gaze to the ground, directing your words at your feet rather than look him in the eyes. You refuse to do so, purely because you know that he's right. You just aren’t willing to admit it to yourself.

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now, okay? Just get dressed, come downstairs and help me make breakfast or something and I swear we’re gonna talk about this some other time. Just not right now. Not with our little girl around.”

You find it in you to glance up at Jon, and his eyes are already fixed on your face, taking in your features. You swallow hard and pray that he won’t notice, but the way his lips twitch into a smirk speaks volumes. At the very mention of you two discussing the situation, Jon is already strategically planning out ways to win you back.

“Alright, how about we talk about this tomorrow if you don’t wanna talk about it now?”

He proposes, and you stutter slightly as you try to conjure up a reply. You can’t form a coherent response, no matter how much you try to, so Jon gives you an ultimatum to prompt you to speak up instead.

“It’s either tomorrow or not at all. I’ve got shit to do, (Y/N).”

You stutter and stammer again, clearing your throat with a nod of the head and pursed lips as well as hugging yourself for comfort. Sitting down and talking things out with him is sure to give you all kinds of nerves, but you know it's something that simply has to be done.

“Fine, Jon. Tomorrow. We’ll talk about all of this tomorrow.”


End file.
